From Aflon's perspective, it looked like his father's soul had already left his body.
'Ha! It feels good to see that old stubborn bastard get a taste of his own medicine!' he thought as he tried his best to conceal the joyous grin on his face.
The three of them soon entered the eight story pagoda and made their way through the oddly vacant reception halls of the first floor.
The Merchant furrowed his brows. "This isn't right," he said grimly as he looked for any associates and saw none. "This place is always filled to the brim with customers and my workers. Something is wrong, good sir."
"I figured that much out already," Azmodeus said as he heightened his senses.
Then, from a shadow in the receptionist hall, a blade careened through the room and sliced the air at speeds that even an Immortal King would find hard to follow.
Whooop!
